The Devil's Advocate
by WhiteWisteria
Summary: [Daffodil's Sequel] Hyuuga Shirou has never thought to want anything but to protect those he loved most. Then she came, with her fiery violet eyes and hair the color of spun gold. ‘My name is Nogi Yukiko and you will die for the deaths of my parents.'


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**The Devil's Advocate**

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Hallo. I just had to make a tragedy out of Daffodil somehow. So here it is: the bittersweet love story of Hyuuga Shirou and Nogi Yukiko.

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**Hyuuga Shirou has never thought to want anything but to protect those he loved most. Then she came, with her fiery violet eyes and hair the color of spun gold. 'My name is Nogi Yukiko and you will die for the deaths of my parents.'**

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**Prologue: Blood for Blood**

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_The smell of blood hung thick in the air, the metallic taste bitter in one's mouth. _

_Blood filled the living room almost carelessly; splaying the walls, thick carpet and furniture a bright hue of crimson that turned her stomach. Her feet seemed to have a will of their own, moving forward with small stumbling steps, the blood-soaked carpet giving out a sickening squelch as she treaded it._

_A wild half-sob tumbled from her lips as she saw the two prone figures lying in the midst of a pool of blood. She stumbled to her knees, hands frantically trying to shake awake the blonde first, then the violet-haired female beside him. _

Open your eyes, open your eyes. _The chant replayed in her mind without a pause as horror constricted her chest. Her breathing became labored and her words wild as the azure eyes once brilliant with life continued to stare at her blankly, the slender hand she gripped in her blood-slicked one remained lifeless._

Mama, Papa, wake up. _The whimpers filled the gory room until they became half-crazed screams. _

Revenge. _A voice in her head whispered. _Kill them for what they did.

_Yes. She would kill them. But she will make them pay triple-fold for what they did first._

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A slender hand lifted to touch the glossy photo displayed on the mantle, tracing the face of the laughing brunette who had her arm flung around the stoic looking Hotaru. Smiling tentatively in the background, Ruka had a hand on the brunette's shoulder while a raven-haired boy glared sullenly at the camera beside the blonde.

She hated the brunette and the raven-haired boy to the death.

Because they killed her parents.

Because they killed Imai Hotaru and Nogi Ruka.

And now, she will kill them for what they did.

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The cold wind whipped through the air, rustling the proud crown of the sakura tree. Coral pink petals shaken loose by the impact drifted down to land around the feet of the teenager leaning against the trunk of the tree. Some lodged onto his raven-black hair, only to be swept away by an impatient hand.

He had grown up by the sea, spent years of his childhood scaling up the very sakura tree he was leaning on, pretending he was a pirate sailing on the high seas, much to his parents' amusement. Yet, despite his love for the sea and the home he had grown up in, Hyuuga Shirou always had a nagging feeling of not fitting in, that some part of him was missing.

There were times he suspected his parents from keeping some things from him, when he accidentally caught sight of an evasive look when he asked a question he apparently wasn't supposed to. There were times he found his mother crying silently in the room she shared with his father, always over a letter that came once a month.

Pushing away the unpleasant thoughts with a sigh, he reached for one of the many swaying daffodils that surrounded him, snapping the stalk nimbly. He knew that if he lingered any longer, his mother would start to worry. These days, his mother always seemed more tightly-strung than usual, though she never once said a word about it. With long-legged strides, he moved towards the quaint cottage with its rust red shingles and honeysuckles, the single daffodil clasped lightly in his hand.

"Mum," Shirou called out lightly as he veered off the road to the main door and rounded the corner of the cottage into the vegetable garden. His mother was kneeling amongst the rows of vegetables, a basket filled with freshly plucked carrots beside her. Nimbly, she got to her feet, one arm cradling the basket to her waist, the other reaching to smooth out her skirt.

Hyuuga Mikan looked no more different than she had seventeen years ago, with the waist-long auburn tresses piled carelessly into bun, dancing amber eyes and a smile as brilliant as the sun. Over the light blue knee-length dress she had on, she donned a white apron that had seen better days. Still, despite her rather ordinary looks, she managed to exude a sweet charm that seemed to draw people to her like bees to honey.

"Shirou-chan!" A delighted smile spread over her face.

Shirou rolled his eyes at the endearment.

"Mom." He begun plaintively as he had for uncountable times in the past," I am already seventeen."

"You will always be Shirou-chan to me." His mother announced staunchly as she nodded determinedly.

He sighed, deciding that there was no way to talk his mother out of the habit when she was in such a mood. Without warning, he took the basket from his mother's hand, eliciting a squeak of surprise from her, and headed for the back door which led to the small cozy kitchen which had endured his mother's horrendous cooking skills.

He paused slightly at the entrance as a slightly burnt smell reached his nose. His amber eyes roved the kitchen until it landed on the slightly blackened cake cooling on the rack. Resigning himself to the fate of having to taste the dubious-looking cake later, he moved into the kitchen fully, relishing the warmth the place offered.

Dumping the basket onto the wide stone counter beside the stove, he held out the daffodil he had plucked for his mother, who was a step behind. With a delighted laugh, she tiptoed and pecked her son on her cheek before accepting the sweet gesture, twirling the bright yellow flower in her hands as she walked to the living room, separated from the kitchen by a cunningly placed dining table.

Walking over to the mantle over the fire place where a cheerful fire danced merrily, she slotted the fresh flower into a slim white vase that stood on the edge, joining its slightly wilted companion from the day before. Stepping back to admire the pretty sight the splash of yellow made against the brick wall, a small dreamy smile crossed her face.

"Mom?" Shirou raised a brow as his mother continued to be lost in her own daydreams. "Mom." He waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention.

With a little start, she took a step back and tripped with an earsplitting shriek.

One hand shot out to clamp on her arm, stopping her midway in her attempt to meet the ground. Shirou heaved an indulgent sigh and righted his mother to her feet. Hyuuga Mikan had never been the epitome of grace, always managing to trip over the smallest things and breaking things accidentally. Most of the time, it had been his father who had broken his mother's fall almost automatically, signifying that it had become a daily occurrence.

"Arigatou Shirou-chan." Mikan thanked her son gratefully, a sheepish smile on her face as she straightened her dress.

"One of these days you are going to break your neck," he commented dryly, causing the brunette to eye him for a while before bursting out into laughter, one hand reaching up to ruffle her son's jet black hair.

"You are growing more like your father each day, Shirou-chan!"

It wasn't the first time he had heard such a comment. In fact, those who happen to see Shirou and Natsume standing together would always comment on such a thing. Indeed, the two shared a lot in common, standing at the same towering height, over-shadowing the petite Mikan. With untidy locks of hair falling into brilliant amber eyes flecked with shards of crimson at the pupils, Hyuuga Shirou was a head turner, a splitting image of his father.

It wasn't that he didn't like being compared to his father; in fact, his father was the person Shirou looked up to the most. In his eyes, his father could do no wrong. But it was simply irritating to hear it so often.

Before he could reply, the sweet chime of the doorbell sounded throughout the cottage.

"Oh, that must be your father!" As always, at the slightest mention of his father, his mother's face lit up with anticipation as she almost ran to the door to jerk it open.

The tall and imposing man who stood on the other side of the door barely managed to keep his balance as his wife hurled herself towards him enthusiastically.

"Natsume, you won't believe what happened today!" His mother babbled excitedly as she took the black briefcase from Natsume's hand.

"What? You burned down the stove?" That was the usual dry comment made by his father as he entered the house after his energetic wife.

"I baked a walnut cake today!" That was immediately met by a skeptic look from his father. Shirou, remembering the cake in the kitchen, winced slightly.

"Dad." He greeted his father, a small lopsided smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Shirou." Natsume nodded as he tugged at the crimson tie he had on to loosen it.

Behind them, Mikan heaved a disgusted sigh and glared at the both of them, hands on her hips. "The two of you will be the death of me."

A shadow of a dimple imprinted onto his cheek deepened as he grinned at the continued scowl his mother had on her. He knew that she was referring to their less than cordial greeting, one that never ceased to irk her to no end. Despite her best efforts to make their greeting "more lively", all she managed to achieve was for Natsume to mention his son's name. In the past, it had been more of a:

"Dad."

"…"

Before his mother could lecture more, the chime of the doorbell stopped her. Giving an I-will-deal-with-you-later look to her husband and son, Mikan headed for the door.

Opening the door with a wide smile on her face, she asked the stranger who stood on the other side of the door cheerfully,"Yes?"

Shirou, who had moved forward to look at the stranger clearer, saw a girl with long hair the color of spun gold, exotic eyes the color of amethysts and the killing intent in her eyes as she said calmly," My name is Nogi Yukiko and you will die for the deaths of my parents."


End file.
